The Fourth Sense
by Emilee Crumby
Summary: "Let's just say that, when he's sick, Auggie's a little less Lassie and a little more Cujo." sick! Auggie
1. Chapter 1

Why does Auggie get so moody when he has a cold? Answers: next.

**Part 1**

They say that when you go blind, your other senses become heightened to account for what you've lost. Hollywood, of course, has taken this to mean that all blind people are superhumans, able to identify the gender, age, and secret identity of any passerby. In the first year after he lost his sight Auggie had scoffed at these stereotypes and launched a personal vendetta against the Daredevil franchise.

He soon found, however, that although Hollywood got very little right, they didn't get everything wrong. At first it was the sound of footsteps he began to identify, qualify, and associate with a growing circle of friends and co-workers. When he finally started the get the hang of Braille he noticed his sense of touch growing more adept at other things simultaneously. After the first few months he swore he could feel the difference between serving up a martini with a twist or a G&T with lime.

By far his favorite new power, as he had began to think of them, was his sense of smell. Auggie had always connected good memories with the smell of cut grass, campfires, or Christmas trees. He had assured people, even his his youth, that a plastic bag, no matter the contents, always smelled bad because it was associated with garbage. Likewise, he insisted, a cardboard box always smelled good.

"Think of all the good things that come in a cardboard box," he'd often said. "Pizza, new shoes, packages…"

Now, nearly everything in his life was associated with smell. The stale 8 o'clock morning blend was the office while the dark Italian roast was Liza's apartment. The gym was sweat and recycled air. Yellow roses smelled different than red roses and he always knew which to bring on a first date. And how about dates. Sophisticated girls smelled floral, fun girls smelled of fruit, and kinky girls, well they usually just smelled of rum. Jai was Axe body wash (how typical), Joan was _Poison_, and Annie, of course, was grapefruit.

On Tuesday he could smell the rain hours before it had started to fall. He could smell the exhaust of the bus as he approached his stop, knowing it had pulled away only moments before. Working past the agency shuttle hours was always a pain and, although Auggie had learned to ignore his pride, something just now insisted he not call Annie for a ride. She and Jai were going out tonight. She hadn't said so but the hesitation in her voice when he suggested drinks after work told him as much as the guilty look in her eyes would have. So now he sat down on a bench listening to the woman beside him coughing. He smelled menthol. And then he felt rain. And by Thursday morning he could not smell anything.

Annie nearly knocked Jai over as she passed him on the bullpen stairs. The papers she had been browsing scattered in snowfall around her.

"If you're not going to look where you're going at least make sure your hazards are on," Jai joked, helping her to collect her things.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I was just reading up on this artist, Chuck Close. You know, for my cover. This guy was so interesting. He was actually paralyzed…"

"It's just a cover, Annie," Jai said with a smirk. "Don't get too attached."

"Oh, I'm not. I just like reading about it," Annie smiled brightly, focusing on Jai for the first time. "So I'm thinking about a coffee run around 1300. Care to join me?"

Jai morosely eyed the stained mug he was carrying. "That would be a yes."

"Cool," Annie starting back up the stairs. "I'm just going to go check if Auggie wants anything."

"Ooh," Jai's face changed. "I wouldn't go in there."

"Why not?" she asked innocently, pivoting on her heel.

"He's got a cold."

"So?"

"So you know how Auggie is generally a patient, fun-loving Labrador of a guy?"

"Yeah?" Annie trailed off, confused.

"Let's just say that, when he's sick, Auggie's a little less Lassie and a little more Cujo."

Annie shrugged. "Well that makes sense, he's not feeling well."

"It's a bit worse than that."

"How bad could it be?"

"You know that scene from The Ring, right after the little girl climbs out of the TV and kills the boyfriend…"

Annie can't help laughing out loud. "You're ridiculous. I'll go check on him and then come back to grab you for coffee."

With this proclamation she was off, leaving Jai to shake his head.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he muttered to himself.

"No, no I can't help you right now. If you need your computer fixed you'll have to go through the help desk like everyone else." Auggie's voice which should have been an angry bellow, now came out more as an irritated croak. Nonetheless it sent the new tech scurrying from the room and nearly knocking Annie off her feet in the process.

"Seriously," he said, now to himself. "As if I haven't got enough of my own work to do." He continued to swear quietly for a moment before breaking off and pitching forward into a violent sneeze.

"Ha-chxxt!"

Auggie sniffed thickly and began to grope for a tissue while pressing the back of his hand to his nose. In an instant Annie had put down her folder and rushed forward to press the box into reach. Its sudden appearance startled him and he called out.

"Who's there? You know I'm blind right? It's awfully rude to sneak up on a blind guy."

"Usually you can tell it's me."

"Annie?"

"Guilty," her voiced lilted through the room.

Auggie sighed and leaned back into his chair bringing the tissue to his nose for a satisfying blow.

"You look like shit," Annie said, perching on the arm of a nearby chair.

"I'll have to take your word for it," he replied. He reached beneath the table for the wastebasket usually there. After a moment of watching him grope Annie spoke up.

"About two inches to the left," she said helpfully.

Finding the bin Auggie tossed the tissue and scowled. "See this is why I hate new people. They come in and move everything. I need everything to be kept a certain way. Really, it's not rocket science." He rubbed his long fingers along the bridge of his nose, massaging away a headache.

"Technically I'm still a 'new person,'" Annie said quietly.

"Oh don't act like that. You know I didn't mean you," Auggie replied with a snarl.

"Man, Jai was right about you."

"Well I just love to hear that," Auggie retorted with a sniffle. At this point he wasn't getting any air through his nose at all and he pulled out another tissue, attempting to blow again. He went through half the box before he was able to get a full breath and the sensation was pure bliss. Of course inhaling the room's cool air was an instant red flag to his, already irritated sinuses, and he threw his head back with another sneeze.

"Bless you," Annie whispered shyly.

"You may as well save your breath. I've been doing that all morning. You'll lose your voice trying to bless me every time," Auggie said, pressing a fresh tissue to his red nose.

Annie furrowed her brow with concern and moved closer to Auggie, resting a hand warmly on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry you're not feeling well," she said with sympathy.

"I don't need you to feel sorry for me," he responded automatically, although his voice had lost some of its harshness when he felt the compassion in her touch.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" He asked, after a beat.

Annie was jolted back into the moment and lifted her hand. "Jai and I are going on a coffee run. Do you want something? Maybe some tea?"

"Tea?"

"Yeah, it's this new-fangled coffee alternative. I hear that sick people are mad for it. I can grab you a fresh box of tissues on the way out too, if you'd like."

Auggie paused and Annie found herself struggling to read his expression. He seemed embarrassed or perhaps even a little sad. When he spoke though, his words were definitely angry.

"Are you trying to _take care of me_?" The way he said it, the concept seemed ridiculous. "For Christ's sake Annie, I'm a grown man. And you're an op not a soccer mom. Between lunch dates with Jai and fussing over me when do you ever have time to actually do your job?"

Annie said nothing. She could feel the blood rising all the way to her ears and was fiercely grateful that Auggie couldn't see the flush in her cheeks. Without comment she turned and left, letting the door slam behind her.

By 1430 Auggie's guilt has finally started to ebb away. Of course, that was probably only because his headache was getting worse and a hint of a fever had started to crop up. Annie hadn't come back which isn't surprising after the way he treated her. He started to think about it again as he zipped the third sweater to his chin. And there's the guilt once more.

'Still', he thought, 'better not to be seen a snotty, shivering mess.' It was hard enough to get respect being a blind op, much less a blind op who can't go five minutes without sneezing or coughing.

"On the other hand," he said aloud, swallowing past a scratchy throat, "tea would have been nice."

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity," Joan's voice broke into the silence of Auggie's office.

"A man talking sense to himself is no madder than a man talking nonsense not to himself,'" he quoted with a tight smile.

"So as long as you're talking sensibly I don't have to worry?"

"Exactly," he said with a sneeze.

"Go home," Joan said in lieu of a blessing.

Auggie's eyes searched the room over his tented fingers. "What? Why?"

"You've intentionally broken a copier, make two interns cry, not to mention infecting everyone in five mile radius." Joan leaned in closely and continued. "And you don't look good."

"Gee thanks," Auggie said sarcastically. "Let me just finish out the day. I promise I'll stop abusing the interns."

"August Joaquin Anderson," Joan raised her voice without moving back, causing Auggie to flinch. "Go home, put on those silk-bottomed pajamas you're always talking about and get in bed. Drink soup, take cold medicine, rest, repeat. Don't come back here until you can get through a sentence without coughing. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am," Auggie's face was a mix of repentance and frustration.

He remained motionless, somehow even resisting the urge to sniffle, until he heard the door shut and knew he was alone again. Then, with a resigned snort, he called the Langley shuttle service and began packing up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2 **

When he was dropped off an hour later Auggie managed a tight-lipped smile to the shuttle driver before sliding out and heading upstairs.

"Hello Auggie," a faceless voice greeted him as he exited the elevator on his floor. It was a woman, elderly he instantly deduced. But here he was quickly frustrated. Mrs. Rigby lived on his hall and smelled of lilies and cigarettes. Amy cleaned some apartments and usually had the scent of pine sol hovering over her. And to save his life, he couldn't tell who it was.

He settled for a smooth grin and a casual, "Hello," before walking quickly past. He could only hope his rudeness would be forgiven.

He unlocked and slid open his door. As soon as it was closed behind him he felt a wave of freedom. The trembling itch in his nose hadn't given him a moment's reprieve all day and now he gave into it fully.

He sneezed uncovered three times before sighing comfortably and leaning his head back against the door. For the first time in hours, the tickle had abated. The metal was cool against his neck and he remembered thinking he was starting to spike a fever. First he should get some Tylenol. Well first, he should really take his temperature. First aid training had taught him it was better not to medicate a fever below 102.

Even as these thoughts were occurring to him, he knew he wouldn't be able to read a thermometer. Somehow, during the purchasing frenzy of talking watches, phones, and keyboards, it had never occurred to him to buy a talking thermometer.

He sneezed again and winced at the stinging in his throat. 'Man I wish I'd taken the tea,' he thought again. 'Or maybe soup. At least lozenges." It struck him how woefully ill-prepared he was to take care of himself.

"Maybe I shouldn't have isolated my only friend," he whispered, heading towards the sofa. The solitude he had craved all day wasn't turning out as great as he'd imagined. He sank into the couch and quickly drifted off to sleep as the guilt began to resurface.

AWAAAWAAAWAAAWAA

The first thing he noticed when he awoke was the scent of grapefruit. Odd that he noticed the smell before he noticed his ability to breathe. But then, even to his sleeping mind, there were priorities.

Auggie lifted his face from where it had been squished against the couch cushion. He rubbed his nose a couple times, pleased to notice his breathing staying clear. He began to notice a fresh, moist smell in the air. And there were the grapefruits again.

"Annie?" he called out tentatively. But why would she be here? After the way he treated her…

"It's such a double standard," suddenly her voice was right beside him.

"You giving me crap about going out with Jai, I mean. You've canoodled with every other woman in the office and that's perfectly fine, but I go out a couple times with one guy and all of a sudden I'm putting my emotions in front of my job."

Auggie cleared his throat but said nothing. It was a reprove he knew he deserved.

"And I'm not the one dating a reporter, might I add," she concluded with a sigh.

Auggie nodded slightly and then looked puzzled. He tilted his head towards an unfamiliar whirring noise.

"Is that a humidifier?" he asked finally.

"What?" Annie asked, frazzled. "Oh yeah. I figured that being all congested you'd probably really miss your sense of smell. I added some eucalyptus oil and brought it over. And that's another thing, there's nothing wrong with me being concerned for you. Wanting to look after you doesn't make me a 'soccer mom.'"

If he had been really listening, the reminder of his cruelty would have stung Auggie. His hearing, though, stopped at "eucalyptus." His eyes stung for a moment and he bit the inside of his cheek to hide the wave of emotion he was sure would be evident in his face. When he was sure it would be safe to speak he turned his head towards her.

"Thank you," he said quietly. He hoped his tone conveyed his gratitude as much as his eyes might have, but somehow doubted it.

Annie stopped short and watched the feelings play across his features. Earlier this evening when she had struggled with the decision to come over, she had feared Auggie's anger. When she had arrived, supplies in tow, her fears had quickly vanished. Watching Auggie sleeping restlessly and snoring heavily had driven into her a state of resolution to do whatever she could to help. For someone so wont to dole out kindness, it was high time he learned to take it.

The solemnity dropped from Auggie's lips as he smiled.

"Will you stop staring?" he asked lightly.

"I'm sorry," Annie apologized. "You… you just look so sick. How do you feel?" She hesitated over the question, afraid of causing more irritation.

"Much better, actually," Auggie sighed and brushed a hand over his eyes. "I mean my head hurts a little, and my throat. But I can't tell you how good it is to breathe through my nose again."

As he finished speaking a shiver ran down his spine and he was unable to keep his jaw from trembling.

In one swift movement Annie sat down next to him and pressed her hand to his forehead.

"I think you have a fever," she murmured. She turned and rummaged around in her purse a moment before withdrawing a thermometer.

While waiting for the beep Annie went to the sink and wet a washcloth.

"Lay back," she said gently, easing Auggie onto the couch. She rested the cloth against his forehead and brushed his cheek with a hand. The thermometer beeped and she perched on the edge of the couch to read it.

"101.2," she read. "Not high enough to warrant Tylenol."

"Ah, first aid training on the farm," Auggie reminisced with a smile. "You know, they taught me how to stitch my own bullet holes."

"Hmm," Annie said thoughtfully. "I must have missed that class."

"Shame," Auggie coughed. "It was a good 'un. No matter though, if you need stitches just call me up. You'll just have to point me in the direction of the wound."

"I couldn't imagine being in better hands."

"Well, it does look like I'm going to owe you." He got quiet and Annie reached closer to smooth the washcloth over his head.

"Annie," he croaked, solemn again. "I'm really sorry for being such a jerk. And I do… appreciate this. You… taking care of me."

She couldn't help but laugh. "How hard was it for you to say that?"

"Just don't make me do it again."

"Well don't get sick again and we'll be fine."

Now Auggie laughed and Annie leaned into the sound.

"Fair enough," he said. He leaned forward, propping his head up on his hand and putting his face just inches from hers.

She rested the back of her hand on his cheek again, at first gauging his temperature but finally letting it drop to his collar bone. She wrapped her fingers around the top of his shoulder, massaging the tightness she could feel through his thin cotton T-shirt.

"Annie," he said again, breathing slowly.

"Yes?" she whispered.

"I think I'm going to sneeze."

"Huh? Oh!" Annie pulled back and reached for a tissue which she handed to him. He took it gratefully and muffled a powerful "Hyetchew!"

Annie patted his leg and leaned back into the couch, glad again that he couldn't see the flush in her cheeks.


End file.
